


First, Last, Only

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, F/M, Fluff, Gore, Horror, Omega Reader, Smut, Violence, Witches, angst if you squint, first time knotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 15:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19703785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: A lack of common sense lands you in a situation completely out of your control; but who knew witches were an actual thing?





	First, Last, Only

************ There were two things you learned on the third Tuesday of June after possibly the worst day at work you’d ever had. One was that drinking on an empty stomach was never a good idea; especially not if you weren’t a frequent drinker and you started with the purple gin. And the second was another thing you’d think was common sense - don’t disclose your personal life to the complete stranger at the bar who wore eyeliner to look edgy.

Mostly, it was the drinking that landed you in trouble.

But there wasn’t much point in swearing off the booze when you were facing certain death. After all, waking up with a burlap sack covering your head and ropes tightly wound around your wrists and ankles, didn’t bode for a successful night.

The guy from the bar hadn’t just  _ looked _ edgy. Apparently, he was a kidnapper.

“There’s no point in screaming,” a disjointed voice reached you. You sucked in a breath, tasting the staleness of the air inside the bag. “No one is going to hear you.”

_ Cliche or what? _ Your mind was always good at providing commentary on the worst possible scenario.

Something touched your shoulder and you lurched, not getting very far with the bindings holding you tightly in what you assumed was a chair. “Who are you?” you whispered, blinking rapidly as if it might magically let you see what was going on. From what you could tell, there was more than one person in the room.

No one answered your quiet question. You turned your head, seeing dots of light through the bag, trying to figure out if the shadows were people.

“Please, I won’t… I won’t tell anyone. If this is a joke, please, just let me go.”

There was no reply. Tears started to roll down your cheeks, big fat desperate ones that made the edge of the burlap wet where it was secured under your chin. The sobs followed soon after and your head rolled forward in defeat.

You didn’t know what the possibilities were here. These people could be looking to sell you, traffic you illegally. After all, you were Omega and that was something that still commanded a high price in some parts of the world.

“We need to test her blood. Make sure she  _ is _ a virgin.”

You jerked upright. “No! I’m not!” you cried out. “I’m not, I’ve had boyfriends. I can prove it!”

“She’s never had a knot,” another voice supplied; you recognized it as the guy from the bar. “She’s untested.” Indignation warred with fright inside your chest as they discussed you like an animal. It went back and forth between them, dissolving into a language that you didn’t recognize.

Panting heavily, you shook yourself in the chair, trying to loosen the bonds. “Please, let me go!”

Something heavy hit the back of your head. Every sense you had was knocked out for half a second, leaving behind a buzz like a church bell ringing right by your head. Your body lolled forward in the chair, the bindings holding you upright.

“Shut up,” one of your captors spat.

You didn’t have much choice. None of your limbs responded and you drooled into the bag covering your head. The people around you carried on talking but none of it made sense.

It was the first gunshot that made your brain kick back into gear. You jerked upright, screaming when something heavy and distinctly human fell onto you, knocking the chair over. Hitting the ground with a thud, you groaned in pain, kicking uselessly with your bound legs.

“Sam!”

A voice you didn’t recognize was calling for someone named Sam. You closed your eyes as more gunshots fired around you and someone screeched in pain. When it went silent, you held still, trying to control your breathing.

You scented them immediately. Alphas, close to you.

Someone touched your shoulder and in the next second, the bag was torn off, leaving red marks along the underside of your chin. You screamed, thrashing as hard as you could, barely even hearing the repeated urges to calm down.

The hysterics started quickly when you saw the glint of a silver knife, too close to your skin. You fought hard, screaming blue murder, only stopping when the knife slashed through your bindings, freeing you. Your legs dropped from where they’d been held, allowing you to scramble free, panting heavily as you faced off with the two living people remaining in the room.

“What do you want with me?!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face.

The bigger of the two Alphas lowered the knife to the floor, holding his hands up in surrender. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “We came here to save you.”

“Got here just in time too,” the smaller Alpha muttered, knocking a bowl off of what looked suspiciously like a Satanic altar. “They were about to bleed you dry, sweetheart.”

You gaped, a million questions in your head, yet none materialized in speech. The two men watched you closely, sharing a look that was loaded with communication you couldn’t possibly understand. It wasn’t helping your equilibrium that one of them smelled fantastic, although you couldn’t tell which one.

“We’re gonna get you outta here, okay?” the big Alpha moved forward and you flinched, making him pause. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Omega.”

“Y/N,” you corrected. “My name is Y/N.”

He nodded. “I’m Sam. That’s my brother, Dean.” Gesturing in the other man’s direction, you received a curt nod from Dean, who was picking through the clothing on the corpses. There were seven of them, three men and four women, all dressed in gothic-style clothing. “These people were witches.”

“Witches?” you repeated, confused. “Witches aren’t real.”

“Unfortunately,” Dean provided, “they are and they’re gross. Just so happens, your blood is a valuable spell ingredient and hard to come by.”

“My blood?”

Sam cleared his throat. “The blood of an unspoiled Omega,” he clarified. Your cheeks filled with heat and you nodded, deciding that was enough information. A smile turned Sam’s lips upward and he moved, blocking the view of his scavenging brother who had just found two hundred bucks in the pocket of one of their victims.

“I’d like to go home now,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself, belated realizing what you were still wearing.  _ Note to self _ , your mind provided, _ the next time Siobhan suggests drinking away the bad days at work, turn tail and join a convent. _

“We can get you home safe,” Sam assured you, sliding one arm around your shoulders. His close proximity made it clear that the delicious scent was coming from him. Instinctively, you relaxed into him, savoring the thick protective embrace of an Alpha, even if he was a stranger.

You kept your words quiet as you leaned into his side. “Thank you.”

Sam smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Outside the warehouse you’d been held in, a sleek black car was parked haphazardly on the sidewalk, three wheels still on the road. Sam guided you to the rear of it, opening the door and helping you in. You shivered again, keeping your arms wrapped around you; Sam stopped when he noticed, frowning slightly before shedding his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Better?” he asked, kneeling down in the open doorway, folding his hands on the leather seat, close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin through your leggings. 

You nodded, offering a small smile of thanks. “Witches. They’re real.”

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Them kidnapping me or them planning to bleed me dry?”

He laughed dryly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry you had to experience any of this.”

You watched him for a moment, studying his handsome features. In all honesty, you weren’t sure you’d seen a man so attractive that wasn’t on television or in a movie. “You… you do this a lot?”

“Witches?”

“Saving frightened Omegas.”

Sam sighed again, his fingers sliding up to brush against your thigh the barest amount. “No,” he admitted, “but we do save people.”

“You killed them,” you whispered.

“They were responsible for five deaths,” he said gently. “And they would have been responsible for more.”

It was impossible to know what to say to that. The questions in your head didn’t make sense and you felt it would be foolish to try and put them into some sort of sentence. Instead, you kept quiet, both of you saved from the awkward moment by Dean emerging from the warehouse.

“Bodies are burning. We need to leave.”

Sam gave his brother a swift nod, patting your thigh and shutting the door. Neither of them spoke as they climbed into the car, Dean taking the driver’s seat, abruptly pulling the car away from the curb.

The drive was quiet - Sam kept looking at you in the mirror and as the adrenaline from what had happened wore off, you couldn’t help but focus more on the thick scent of Alpha in the car. Dean’s scent was greatly overpowered by Sam’s, although that might have been because you were sat right behind the larger brother.

Idly, you wondered which one of them was the younger brother. You suspected it was Sam, despite his greater stature.

“Which way?” Dean asked suddenly, slowing to a halt at an intersection, glancing back at you.

“Er, left,” you whispered, vaguely knowing where you were. It wasn’t far from the bar you’d been drinking at, which made sense. Realizing you’d lost your jacket and your purse, you groaned, letting your head hit the window with a thud. “Shit.”

“What?” Sam asked, panic on his face when he turned.

“Nothing, I just -” You sighed, closing your eyes. “I lost my purse. My phone, my cards -” It wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened that night but it was a pain in the ass. “I know it’s a stupid thing to worry about…”

Sam shook his head, smiling softly. “Not at all.”

“My block is on the third right,” you mumbled, opening your eyes to see where the car was going. Dean nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek as he followed your directions. When you saw your building, you sat up a little straighter. “That’s me.”

The Impala rumbled to a stop at the curb and Sam got out, leaving Dean in the car. He opened your door, offering assistance that you gratefully accepted. “Want me to walk you up?” he asked and you nodded.

Helping you to the door, Sam excused himself for a moment, turning back to speak to his brother through the car window. Dean muttered something about burgers and being quick, to which Sam assured him he wouldn’t be long.

You managed to get the door open with the help of your neighbor Joshua, who was a full-time gamer, so he rarely slept and was always on hand. He also had the spare key to your apartment and he was waiting at the top of the stairs as you approached.

It was obvious something had occurred. You were barefoot, for one, and dressed like the Whore of Babylon underneath Sam’s huge coat draped around your shoulders. Joshua’s eyes flicked to Sam, nostrils flaring as he scented the Alpha.

“Everything okay?” he asked, frowning at the both of you.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “I was, er, I was mugged and Sam here saved me.”

Joshua was quiet for a moment before he stepped aside, handing you your key. “Lemme know if you need anything, okay?” You nodded, smiling at him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, watching him turn away to his apartment. Sam was close behind you, almost like a protective shield, waiting for you to open the door before following you inside. Once in, you turned to him, shrugging his jacket off, holding it out to him.

He took it, clutching the material in his big hands. “We’re gonna stick around a little while,” he informed you, his spectacular eyes focusing on you. “Make sure things are safe.”

“O-okay.” Sliding your hands up over your arms, you hugged yourself again, habit you’d picked up when you a frightened kid. It was alarming, how quickly the fun night out had turned sour, how close you’d come to being killed by witches.

“Well, I better get back before Dean starts bitching,” Sam muttered, stepping back toward the open door. He hesitated, sliding his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out a small card. “My number,” he held it out; you took it, inspecting the digits, “if you need  _ anything _ …”

You nodded, folding the card into your hand and looking up at him. “Thank you, Sam.”

He didn’t speak again and in the next moment, your apartment door clicked shut. Your legs shook as you turned to your couch, reaching for the thick blanket hung over the back. The bedroom seemed like too far away, so you collapsed there, sinking into the cushions.

Within five minutes you were passed out, Sam’s number still clutched in your hand.

*****

Everything hurt the next day. Bruises had blossomed over the red marks from where you’d been tied and the burlap sack had left an angry red welt that covered the majority of your throat. You stared at yourself in the mirror, inspecting each injury, thanking God it was Saturday so you didn’t have to work.

Sam’s number was on the kitchen table, nestled in between two slightly blackened bananas.

Slipping your bathrobe back on, you turned away from the mirror, heading right for the coffee pot on the kitchen side. There were a few things you’d already taken care of, such as reporting the theft of your purse and jacket at the club last night. You had little hope your things would be returned, so you’d cancelled all your cards, ordered replacements and once you had found the courage to get dressed, you’d be heading out to purchase a new phone.

Discomfort rolled through your belly and you groaned, shifting your attention to the medicine cabinet. Of course being near an Alpha as… potent, as Sam, had brought your heat on a few days early.

Adding a trip to the pharmacy to your mental list, you dressed in a comfortable sweater and jeans, slipping out of the door. You’d have to get a new key cut too, and return the spare to Joshua. And probably explain last night a little better.

God, it was going to be a busy day.

The mall wasn’t busy, and getting a new phone turned out to be easier than you thought. The shop assistant checked your contract and discovered you were covered by insurance, meaning your replacement phone was free.

“One problem down,” you muttered to yourself, sliding the phone into your bag, intending on an entire evening of playing with the features and seeing what emojis were different. 

A few minutes walk in the brilliant sunshine and you were at the pharmacy. There was a queue for the counter and you groaned - you hated buying suppressants with people around. Someone always judged, usually about your age and why you weren’t mated.

_ “Haven’t met the right guy” _ was the standard reply, although truthfully, you’d never thought about it. Having an Alpha, a mate? It seemed so far removed from the life you lived…

“Y/N?”

You turned instantly at the sound of his voice, seeing him over the top of the shelves. Sam smiled, his hair literally bouncing as he moved. “Sam,” you breathed, “hi.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, concern in his face and tone.

“A little banged up,” you admitted, looking down at the shelf, hastily grabbing a packet of the suppressants you needed and turning away. Sam followed, meeting you at the end; you covered the medicine in your hands, smiling awkwardly. “Few bruises.”

He was ridiculously handsome. The way he smelled was like fresh spring rain, vanilla and spice, with a tang that sat pleasantly on your tongue. Your awkward smile became genuine, almost like the rest of the world melted away when you stared into the colors of his eyes.

“I’m glad you aren’t too hurt,” he murmured, his dimples accentuated by his wide grin. “I was just picking up some Tylenol for Dean.”

“He’s hurt?”

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “No, he’s hungover. Dean’s what you would call a functional alcoholic.”

You nodded, unsure whether to be amused or alarmed by the casual way he spoke about alcoholism. “Well,” you started, the awkwardness returning, “I should get…”

He picked up on the get out clause, stuffing one hand in his pocket. “Of course,” he agreed, “I should get back too, he’s like a bear with a sore head when he’s had one too many.” You refrained from commenting on the way he talked about his brother like they were a married couple, finding it sorta sweet. It must be weird, doing what they did for a living.

Your questions had only increased since you’d woken up.

Turning away, Sam headed for the door, and you panicked, calling out his name. He stopped, looking back at you with one raised eyebrow. “I just…” You were very aware of the looks you were getting, making you doubt yourself; you shoved the box back onto the shelf and rushed after him, mentally reminding yourself to grab some before you went home.

“You okay?” Sam asked again, concerned when you moved closer.

“Yeah, I just want to thank you again. And… I don’t know… I feel like I should take you to dinner.” The realization of how that sounded set in quickly. “Dean too!” you added, cringing internally. “He likes burgers, right?”

“Er,” Sam struggled for a moment, “sure, yeah, I mean, you don’t have to -”

“I want to!” you exclaimed. “There’s a diner on Main and Roosevelt. Meet me there at 8pm tonight.”  _ What the fuck are you doing? _ your brain demanded and you swallowed, forcing a bright smile onto your face. “Please. I really wanna pay you guys back.”

There was a second you hoped Sam would decline and another you hoped he’d accept without Dean but neither of those outcomes occurred. Sam’s smile returned and he nodded.

“That sounds great.”

*****

Playing with your new phone had taken a backseat to the panic that you’d somehow arranged dinner with not one but two Alphas, when your heat was starting early and to put a nice cherry on top of that fuck-up sundae, you’d never gone back for the suppressants.

Sam’s number wasn’t in the fruit bowl where you’d left it; you didn’t remember moving it and without his number, you couldn’t cancel which left two options as far as you could tell.

One. Go to the diner, have an exceptionally uncomfortable dinner, and hope neither of them sniffs out the obvious.

Two. Stay home, lock the door, and stand them up.

And play with your new phone.

In all honesty, you were leaning toward option two. The idea of sitting even remotely near Sam when you could feel the beginnings of that time when you become both unbearably horny and agonisingly pained (which left you somewhere between raging she-demon and breeding bitch) wasn’t an idea you could get fully onboard with.

Maybe they’d stand you up. Maybe they would have already moved on, despite Sam’s decision to stick around for a few days. Dean didn’t seem like the sticking-around type, in any capacity, which was your professional opinion after meeting him for five minutes.

It was already six pm and you’d only just climbed out of the shower, using the excessively fragrant blueberry body wash that Michelle in accounting had got you for a Secret Santa last year. It was fantastic for covering your natural scent and didn’t smell like the rear end of something unpleasant like the store-brand scent blockers did.

At least you didn’t need to make an effort to look nice. In fact, the less appealing you were, the better. Especially at this time of your cycle. Your town wasn’t known for having a large amount of Alphas, or Omegas for that matter, but prevention was better than… that.

Shrugging into a nice comfortable sweater and a pair of jeans that were just loose enough not to crush your ovaries when you sat down, you grabbed your new purse, rifling through it for the phone. You dragged it out of the box when you found it, turning it on to go through the rigmarole of setting the damn thing up.

“Thank god for Google accounts,” you muttered bitterly, throwing yourself onto the couch. 

Which was, of course, the  _ best _ time for someone to knock at your apartment door.

You snarled, dropping the phone onto the cushions, hauling yourself up with more effort than was probably required, slouching toward the door. It was probably Joshua, checking in on you - if it was anyone visiting, they would have to ring the buzzer downstairs.

Sam was on the other side of the door when you opened it, jaw promptly hitting the ground in shock. He grinned sheepishly, giving you a little wave. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you squeaked back. “Er… how did you get in?”

Glancing back nervously, Sam shoved his hands in his pockets. “The lady with the blue hair… she let me in when I said I was here to see you.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “That would be Mrs. Gou,” you sighed, cursing your aged neighbor with the ridiculously bright blue rinse. “She didn’t… say anything, did she?”

Sam’s cheeks were bright red and you groaned, turning away from the door. He took it as a sign to enter, shuffling in a little awkwardly and closing the door behind him. From there, he didn’t move, watching as you returned to the couch, worried about infringing on your territory.

“She, er, mentioned something about it being nice,” his voice got quieter as you fixed him with a glare, “that you’d met someone.”

“She’s intolerable,” you snapped. “Interfering little old lady.”

Sam smirked. “At least now I know you’re single,” he quipped, doing nothing to lighten your mood.

“Did the luxurious apartment not give it away?” He laughed at that, relaxing a little. You sat up straight, snatching your phone from the cushions. “You can sit down. I don’t bite.” Sam nodded, moving himself into the large armchair that was more for visitors than anyone else. You couldn’t ever get comfortable in the damn thing. His long legs stretched out underneath him; you suddenly realized just how  _ big _ he looked in your tiny lounge.

“I gave you my number last night,” he said slowly, “but then I remember after seeing you in the pharmacy… you don’t have a phone.”

Looking down, you frowned, holding up the new device. “I have one now,” you pointed out, face crumbling when you realized you’d lost his number. “But I lost your number.”

He huffed in amusement, shaking his head. “I figured you might be reconsidering dinner tonight.”

“Why?” you asked, conveniently not mentioning the fact that yes, you were absolutely reconsidering dinner tonight.

Sam’s cheeks darkened a little. “When we were… talking, earlier…”

A lead weight of mortification dropped into your stomach. He’d scented you. Fuck, how strong was this heat going to be?

“I just wanted to come by and say that if you would be more comfortable cancelling, we can absolutely do that. Dean’s got a sure thing with a girl at that dive bar you were in, so -” He shrugged, smiling. “And I kinda wanted to check in on you.”

“T-thanks,” you mumbled, closing your eyes as you pinched the bridge of your nose. The blueberry smell was overwhelming but by the way Sam was shifting in his chair, you thought the scent might not be working as well as it usually did. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” you whispered; Sam frowned, leaning forward a little.

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” Sam questioned softly. “You can’t help it.”

“I know but… you’re an Alpha and -”

“I can control myself,” he assured you gently, smiling.

It wasn’t Sam you were worried about, not completely. He seemed like a fairly controlled guy but you? You’d never been around an Alpha when you were in heat. Even now, just his proximity was doing things to you that you couldn’t even begin to explain and it suddenly seemed like a good idea that he wasn’t there.

Looking up at him, you gave him a wobbly smile. “It was really sweet of you to check in on me,” you murmured, “but I really think -”

The tension in his shoulders returned three-fold as you stood up, a fresh burst of your scent almost knocking him backward. Sam was quick to follow you to the door, not hesitating as he ushered himself out. “Like I said,” he handed you another card, “if you need anything.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Sam.”

He nodded once with another bashful smile before turning and jogging down the stairs as fast as he could politely manage. As soon as his shadow disappeared off of the wall, you closed the door, sliding the deadbolt into place.

For a few seconds, you stood, leaning your forehead against the door. He’d been there minutes but you could smell him everywhere.

Growling in frustration, you kicked the bottom of the door and stormed off to your bedroom, grabbing your phone on route.

A few hours of Candy Crush should distract you until you fell asleep.

*****

The sheets were twisted around your ankles, soaked through with sweat and arousal. You’d put the AC on full blast but it wasn’t doing anything to cool your feverish skin and in the midst of the heat, you couldn’t tell what was a dream and what was real.

Usually, your dreams about Alphas were faceless, huge hulking men that would dominate you entirely, leaving you panting when you woke and reached for your ever handy vibrator to try and ease the throb in your loins. Somehow, your imagination always bypassed realistic standards - of course every Alpha would have a six-pack, killer abs and a cock that probably wouldn’t fit.

This time, your imaginary lover had a face. Sam’s face. His arms were rock solid, clutching at you tightly as he made you cum again and again.

Your wand didn’t do a whole lot of good when you woke up the first time. It just left you wanting the real thing.

The sky was starting to grow lighter outside your bedroom window and you groaned, covering your face with the sheets. Dream-Sam distracted you with featherlite kisses to your shoulders, running his huge hands over your belly.

“Lemme make you feel good,” he purred and you melted into his embrace, fantasizing that your oodles of pillows were actually the handsome Alpha that had saved your life.

You didn’t even know his last name. He could be anyone. He could have orchestrated the whole thing, designed it to entrap you, the pathetic Omega who’d never had a knot, who’d never even been in a Starbucks outside her area code.

Reality splashed over you like a cold bucket of water and you woke fully, the urge to pee forcing you from the bed. Your legs were like jello, barely holding you up as you stumbled into the bathroom, emptying the contents of your stomach and bladder in quick succession.

You’d never had a heat like this.

Slumping back into bed, you shivered despite the sweat coating your skin, blurry eyes fixed on the window as the sun rose higher in the sky. When you reached out to take your phone from the nightstand, your hand shook and you swallowed, pressing chapped lips together. 

Sam’s number was stuck to the screen.

He wouldn’t come. Not for some strange Omega, calling him at the ass-crack of dawn. You were just getting through the rough first day, that was all. 

You tossed the card away and booted your phone up, concentrating on setting it up how you liked. Your number hadn’t changed thankfully and there were several texts from Melissa and Siobhan, your friends from Friday night.

God.

Witches were real.

Casting the texts aside, you logged onto Google, clicking in a few keywords and hitting search. Reams and reams of information appeared; you clicked the first link, scrolling through with wide eyes, forgetting about everything but what you were reading.

Words always were a good distraction.

By noon, you’d weeded out the false information from the real and found an interesting forum run by two odd men called Harry and Ed. It was a collaboration of stories from apparent survivors of ghosts, vampires, werewolves - you couldn’t believe what you were reading.

This couldn’t be real.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t your raging hormones that finally dragged your attention away from your rapidly dying phone. Your stomach rumbled loudly and the instant nausea that came with it had you dropping your phone and slipping off to the kitchen.

Dean’s classic black car was parked across the street when you peered out of the window. Narrowing your eyes, you backed away, turning and coming into direct contact with a solid chest. Looking up, you shrieked, recognizing the guy from the bar.

Shouldn’t he have been dead?

“Hello, Y/N,” he drawled, grabbing you around the throat. “You really should have called that Alpha. Might have saved your life.”

You couldn’t speak with the pressure of his fingers on your windpipe, choking as you dangled in his hold. Grabbing at his hand, you dug your nails in hard enough to draw blood - the guy didn’t even flinch.

With your last ounce of strength, you kicked out, catching him right in the balls. He screeched in pain, releasing you and you dropped, gasping for breath as he toppled over, clutching his groin.

Good to know that worked on  _ anything _ .

Scrambling to your feet, you knew you only had a matter of seconds. There was no way you’d make it to the door and get it unlocked, or get downstairs. The brothers were just outside. You needed their attention.

Your attacker was getting to his feet now - you couldn’t remember his name, it was something quirky, like Julian or Leon - and you were running out of time. You grabbed at the frying pan on the side and Julian/Leon/Whatever growled at you, ready to defend himself.

He wasn’t expecting you to fling it at the thin window, shattering the glass. The frying pan landed with a definite clang and you smirked in self-satisfaction. “You aren’t the only stalker I have,” you quipped - he snarled and lunged, cutting off your scream as the pair of you hit the floor.

His fingers were around your throat again, his leering smile too close to your face. You panicked, struggling to no avail, hoping against hope that Sam would get up here in time.

The foul smell of his breath washed over you as he leaned in, transferring all his weight onto one hand, the other reaching for his jacket pocket. “Then I guess I’d better slit your throat and get as much as I can.”

*****

Sam had been staring at the window since the sun had risen over the horizon. Dean, on the other hand, had been snoring for about three hours, not caring for much except his bed. He was awake now, grumpy and hungry.

“I think, if he was gonna come back for her, he’d have done it by now, Sammy,” Dean yawned, stretching in his seat. “Can’t we at least go get breakfast?”

“No,” Sam mumbled. “Something’s not right.”

“You’ve been acting weird since you met this chick. What’s so special about her?” Giving his brother a sideways glance, Sam huffed under his breath; Dean looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “I mean, I get the Omega thing, I do, but it’s just genetic. You’re compatible with her, right?”

“You’re an Alpha, you’re supposed to know what it feels like,” the younger man grunted. “That instinct to protect - to be with her, to -”

“To fuck, Sam,” Dean drawled, interrupting him with a dry look. “It’s biological. That’s it.”

For a moment, Sam was quiet, keeping his eyes on the window as the sun hit it. He wanted more than anything to be up there, protecting her without lurking. He knew what Dean was getting at - neither of them knew this girl. It was coincidence that she happened to be a compatible Omega to Sam’s Alpha but that didn’t give him an excuse to drag her into his life.

No matter how much he wanted to.

He couldn’t get the scent of her out of his mind.

Shattering glass had both brothers getting out of the car, alert, guns drawn, their attention drawn to the broken window of Y/N’s apartment and the frying pan lying in the yellowed grass in front of them. Sam didn’t need more than a few seconds to make his decision, bolting for the front door, Dean close on his heels.

The entry system didn’t stand in the way too long - Sam smashed the glass panel with the butt of his gun, sliding his hand through and unlocking the door from the inside. The sharp glass caught his hands, leaving shallow cuts along his palms but he ignored it, barrelling through the door and up the stairs.

Joshua had emerged from his apartment, frowning at the two Alphas charging for Y/N’s door. “What the hell?!”

“Key!” Dean snapped, not commenting as Sam threw himself against the door, shoulder first. The wood cracked and Joshua’s eyes went wide in alarm. “Key!” Dean repeated.

“She didn’t return it!” the other man squeaked, his head snapping around when a scream came from inside the apartment.

Sam snarled, hurling himself against the door, finally standing back and planting his foot in the middle, sending it crashing inward, showering the room beyond with splinters and dust.

The lounge was empty; Sam bypassed it, heading for the bedroom at the far end of the hall, following his nose. Her scent was thick with fear and it was only succeeding in making him angrier.

“Sam!”

Dean’s voice warned him just as a blast of power took him off of his feet and into the wall with a grunt of pain. Gunshots rang out, and a male voice screamed in pain, a voice that thankfully didn’t sound like Dean.

“Let her go!” his brother yelled and Sam got himself upright, staring into the kitchen.

The witch that escaped them had her by the throat, a blade against her pulse. He glared at them menacingly, daring either of them to move. Y/N whimpered and Sam couldn’t help the growl that tore from his throat.

“Now then,” the witch hummed, right against her ear. “Let’s have a little chat.”

*****

You honestly thought you were going to piss yourself if the knife got any closer. Of course, if it got any closer, you’d bleed to death, so pissing yourself might have been unavoidable.

“Now then,” the witch hummed, his voice so close to your ear that it left an uncomfortable buzz behind. “Let’s have a little chat.”

“Sure,” Dean grunted, “let her go, and maybe we don’t kill you.”

The low rumble of laughter made you sick to your stomach as the witch tightened his hold on your throat. On one side, his fingers dug into the skin, so hard you could feel his filthy nails breaking the top layer of skin. On the other, the knife, the point so close to your pulse throbbing just below the surface that any one sudden move would certainly kill you.

“Do you really think I’d let her go?” he hissed.

“There’s no way you’re making it out of here alive if you don’t,” Sam warned, his fingers twitching on his gun. You met his eyes, sure he could see the real terror on your face, your entire body shaking. This guy had you at his mercy - you weren’t entirely positive he cared if he died.

“You killed my entire coven,” the witch seethed, pressing the knife harder against your skin. It broke through, a tiny pinprick of blood trickling down your throat.

Sam saw literal red. Before Dean could stop him, he pulled his gun up, taking the shot. You screamed, closing your eyes, waiting to die -

The knife clattered to the floor. Stumbling backward, the witch touched the perfectly circular bullet hole in his forehead, looking at his fingers for only a second before the light went out in his eyes and he dropped to the floor.

You burst into tears. What else was there to do?

Sam was there, all of a sudden, wrapping his arms around you. Covering your face with your hand, you didn’t even try to fight the sobs, letting him pick you up from the cold kitchen floor without resistance. Vaguely, you heard his brother scold him for his rash actions, Sam’s reply vibrating against your head where it was pressed against his chest.

“I’ll take care of her,” Sam said, “you take care of that.”

You could feel the muscles in his chest when he started to walk, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom. The door slammed shut behind you and second later, Sam lowered you onto the bed. He attempted to stand, to abandon you; you didn’t let him. Grabbing hold of his shirt, you whined pathetically, cursing your own weakness.

“Y/N -”

“Please,” you whispered, blinking up at him with reddened eyes. “I - they -”

“They’re dead,” Sam explained, sitting down on the bed, trying to coax your fingers from his shirt. “I promise you -”

“Did you know he was still out there?” you asked.

“Dean thought he’d skipped town,” Sam admitted, “but I had a feeling something wasn’t right. I didn’t want to leave until I knew you were safe.”

You pulled back a little, staring at him. Logically, you should be pissed that you’d kinda been used as bait to drag the witch from hiding. But then, if they’d left without killing him… You shuddered at the thought. “I’m glad you didn’t leave,” you murmured, laying down. “Thank you.”

“They’re not gonna come back, Y/N,” Sam promised, leaning over and rubbing one hand down your bare shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

“What if someone else decides they want me?” He blinked, frowning at the suggestion. Reaching out, you caught his hand, sliding your fingers between his. “Sam, I -” You swallowed, unable to meet his eyes. “If we… if you…” The idea was bubbling on the tip of your tongue. “I need to not be of value to them, right?”

Sam’s eyes widened a little as he picked up on what you were trying to convey.

“That isn’t a good idea,” he announced, pulling back and standing up, his discomfort obvious as he ran a hand through his hair. “We don’t know each other.”

“So, we get to know each other,” you insisted, sitting up, reaching for him again. “Sam, I know you feel it like I do. Hell, you brought my heat on early just by… by being here.”

He shook his head, looking away. “Y/N, the life I live? It’s not a happily ever after.”

“You think mine’s gonna be?” Your softly spoken statement made him glance at you sharply. “Sam, I have no one. I have friends, sure. But my best friend? Moved to a different state a year ago. She’s happily married. My parents moved to Florida. I don’t have anyone else.”

“My life is dangerous,” Sam replied.

You shrugged at that, picking at a loose thread on the sheets. “I don’t wanna do what you do. I… I did some research on witches and found some other stuff and -” Shuddering, you curled your fingers into the cotton, shaking your head. “I’m no Buffy, Sam, I can tell you that now. I can’t fight. I wouldn’t be able to run away from… zombies or whatever.”

Sam chuckled at that, moving a little closer to the bed. “Zombies aren’t really a thing.”

“I know,” you grinned, “they make no sense. But, I suppose magic, vampires, and demons… they don’t either.”

“Not a lot of it does,” he confessed, sitting back down, taking your hand. His gaze locked on yours. “Doesn’t make it any less dangerous.”

You tightened your fingers around his. “I’m pretty good at avoiding danger.” There was a pause, during which you both recalled the events of how you met. “When I’m not drunk. And I don’t drink, not really, it was just a bad day and -”

Sam chuckled, pulling you into a kiss. “I never thought I’d be ready for this,” he murmured, barely parting from your lips. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I scented you.”

Shrugging your shoulders lightly, you smiled at him, reaching up to touch his face with one hand. Your palm barely covered his cheek, highlighting the size difference between you. “Is it gonna hurt?” you asked meekly; Sam frowned at the question. “I mean… I’ve never - I’ve had sex.” His gaze darkened but you didn’t notice, continuing with your nervous rambling. “Sex isn’t a problem just…”

“It won’t hurt,” he promised. “I’ll make it feel good.”

There was a warmth in your belly that you hadn’t felt before when Sam pushed you back onto the bed, lying alongside you, taking up most of the space available. You regretted the decision to buy a double bed and not a king when he kicked his shoes off and almost toppled backwards.

“You okay there?” you teased, running your hand over his arm. Sam grinned, shedding his jacket and overshirt, leaving him in only a tight white t-shirt that left very little to the imagination. As it turned out… Dream Sam hadn’t been too far off the mark.

The intense makeout session that followed was enough to have your insides twitching, whole body tense with the need for release. Before it could get any further, Dean banged on the door, making you both sit up.

“Sam!”

“I’ll meet you back at the motel,” Sam called back, returning his attention to you. Dean grunted something on the other side of the door, stomping away loudly and you giggled, letting Sam push you back down.

“I don’t think he’s gonna be happy with this,” you said, smiling as Sam kissed down over the covered swell of your breasts. He huffed, shrugging his indifference. “Sam -”

“Don’t talk. If we talk, we find reasons not to,” he leaned up, kissing you softly, “and you were the one convincing me.”

You silenced the question on your tongue, the need to know if this was the right thing, despite your feelings a few moments before. You’d always been a fairly spontaneous person but even this - were you really prepared to let this man you’d known only two days, who’d bust into your life with a gun and a blade and saved you from  _ goddamn witches _ , knot you and take you as his?

“Sam,” you whispered, tugging on his hair to get his attention. “I don’t -”

He looked up, seeing the hesitation in your eyes where moments ago there’d been determination. Slowing his pace, Sam settled down beside you again, lifting one huge hand to cup your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“I’m gonna look after you,” he promised, his thumb swiping over your cheek. “We have a place you can stay, it’s safe, one of the safest places in the world. And I promise, I will die before I let anything hurt you.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you turned your face into his hand, kissing his palm. “This doesn’t happen in real life.”

“And witches and vampires aren’t real,” he pointed out; you tensed a little when his hand slipped away. “This is real life and you’re mine, Y/N.”

The claim startled you. It was true, since meeting him, you’d felt an undeniable pull. From that first moment you’d calmed down and looked in his eyes, letting him guide you from the witches’ lair enveloped in his protection.

You didn’t recall feeling that safe before in your entire life.

“You’re my Omega,” Sam whispered, brushing his lips over yours. “I’m your Alpha. I know it. I feel it.” His hand settled over your heart. “I know you do too.”

“I do,” you breathed, leaning up to meet him in another heated kiss. It felt right. Something that felt this right couldn’t be wrong, you were sure of it. Sure of him. “Sam… Alpha.”

The first declaration of his title was enough to make him growl, his hands becoming a little rougher as he pushed you into the covers. His fingers made short work of your vest, dragging it over your head, letting you repeat the action on him.

You couldn’t help running your hands over his firm chest. He couldn’t have been much past thirty but he obviously took care of himself, although you could see scars from god-knows-what littering his golden skin.

“Wait,” you pressed your palm into the center of his chest, “what’s your last name?”

Momentary fear faded from Sam’s gaze. “Winchester,” he chuckled. “What’s yours?”

“Y/L/N,” you giggled. “We probably should have done that earlier.”

“Not important,” he muttered, pushing you back down. Sliding down so he was eye-level with your hips, he plucked at the fabric of your sleep shorts. You lifted your ass when he dragged them down your thighs, tossing them away when they were free of your legs. “You smell amazing.”

Your cheeks heated when he stopped your thighs closing through shyness, his hands framing your bare pussy. The sound he made was primitive and you gasped when he ran one finger through your folds, lifting it to his lips to taste you.

You wanted him to fuck you. Patience had never been your strong point but just the hint of what Sam had underneath his clothing was enough to have you salivating at the thought of having him inside you. You’d never even seen an Alpha knot and the stories you’d heard -

“Y/N?” Sam asked, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your mound. Humming, you met his dark eyes, smiling as the hormones kicked in, relaxing you a little more.

“Touch me, Sam,” you murmured, reaching down, running your fingers through his thick hair. He grinned, lowering his head, not objecting to your gentle hold. His tongue flicked out, dragging over your sensitive clit; your hips bucked and Sam instantly pinned you.

The effortless move made you groan wantonly. Sam raised an eyebrow and lifted his head, grinning as he realized what you wanted.

“You… don’t like it sweet and gentle, do you?” he queried - you smiled shyly, shaking your head. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

A wisp of a sigh left your lips. “Want my Alpha to take me. Wanna feel you for days.” Sam groaned, crawling up your body to kiss you, hard and fast, before returning to his position between your thighs, smirking lewdly when you carded your fingers through his hair again.

The second touch of his mouth on your pussy was a full on French-kiss, centered over your clit. Sam wasn’t shy to use teeth and tongue, the pleasure only forcing you to spread your thighs further for him. Seizing the opportunity, he sucked your clit into his mouth, easing two fingers into your soaked warmth.

You squeaked in surprise at the sudden penetration before groaning as his thick digits speared you open, crooked just right to brush against your g-spot. Sam didn’t stop, sucking harder at your clit until you were on the verge of begging him to let you cum.

It took only a twitch of his fingers to send you over the edge. Twenty-four hours of unbearable arousal left you over-sensitive and Sam was reaping the benefits, pulling back to watch you writhe on his fingers.

Sobbing his name, you reached for him, wanting more but he wasn’t done. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly, slowly pumping his fingers inside you.

“You won’t,” you promised; Sam looked doubtful.

“Wanna feel you cum again.” The distraction of his fingers worked and you hummed, relaxing back onto the pillows as the pleasure in your core steadily built up. Sam kept going, lowering his mouth to lick at your clit every so often, relying on his fingers to do all the work. “You’re so wet.”

You gasped, arching on the bed with only Sam holding you in place. It was too much, too intense, you felt like you were going to literally explode - he kept going, using his thumb on your clit when he wasn’t using his tongue.

“Cum for me, ‘mega,” he whispered and you cried out, clutching the sheets between your fingers as you started to lose control. Sam urged you on, adding a third finger to your slick channel, overloading your senses.

There was a sense of relief when you came, gushing over his fingers. Pleased with what he’d done, Sam pulled his hand away, licking his fingers clean like the cat that got the cream. You barely registered when he climbed off of the bed, although when his pants hit the floor, your attention was back on him.

He was turned away from you when he pushed his boxers down his legs, stepping out of them. You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen an ass that spectacular, almost as if it were carved from marble. When he turned around, your eyes went wide.

“Want my knot?” Sam drawled, crawling back onto the bed, thick, heavy cock bouncing between his thighs. Nodding dumbly, you met him in a kiss, letting him pull you across his significantly bigger frame. “You’re in control here,” he promised, one hand on the back of your head. “Sit on my lap.”

Slinging one leg over his hips, you pulled yourself into a seated position on his lap, his cock trapped against your bare pussy. You whimpered, rolling your lower body almost unwittingly; Sam groaned, his hands landing on your hips to hold you steady.

“You’re so fucking warm,” he grunted, his shaft twitching under the confines of your weight. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me.”

With a smile, you leaned over, kissing him as you raised your hips, letting his length stand rigid, sucking in a sharp breath when his thick tip caught on your entrance. Sam was holding still, letting you run the show, something you were grateful for considering the size of his manhood.

His shaft throbbed as you rolled your hips, sliding down and back up, biting your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt how thick he was. “Sam?”

“Yeah?” The husky reply made you look up, returning to a stationary position, his dick trapped between your bodies again. 

“Your knot…”

Sam smirked, taking hold of one of your hands, guiding it to the space between your thighs currently occupied by his cock. You lifted up, letting him show you the thick ring of muscle at the base, a slightly different shade to the rest of him, already pulsing with arousal.

“You were made for me,” he murmured, pushing up to kiss you softly. “It won’t hurt.”

You smiled, wrapping your fingers around his length and stroking him slowly. “I know,” you replied, wiggling the end of your nose. 

He wasn’t expecting you to line him up and sink down. It was only the first inch or so and you stopped quickly, suddenly out of breath. A quiet  _ ‘oh’ _ left you and you lifted up again, bracing your weight on your arms as you attempted to take him once more.

Sam groaned loudly, stretching his chin up as you took a little more on the second try, whimpering loudly as the thick girth met further resistance, prompting you to try a third time. You lifted clear of him, using one hand to grasp him tightly, before sinking back down.

This time, your body relaxed, the slick of your cunt almost sucking him in and Sam practically snarled as your heat enveloped him to the root, barely holding it together as you slumped on his chest, panting heavily.

“Fuck.” Your quiet curse preceded the slow lift of your head, glassy eyes fixing on his flushed cheeks. “Sam -”

“Give me a minute,” he whispered, kissing you softly. “Never felt anything like this.”

“You’re…” you swallowed desperately, “you’re really big.”

“I’m an Alpha,” he pointed out and you giggled, the reaction make you tighten around him, forcing a strangled moan from his lips. “Fuck, don’t… god, I’m not gonna last.”

You sat up, taking him as deep as you could, your breaths catching on little yips of surprise when the thick head of his dick hit spots you didn’t even know you had. The feeling of him was overwhelming, so… full. Like you could feel him in your belly, possessing you wholly.

“Sam -” 

His name became almost a chant as you started to move, lifting up until he was almost free of you before sinking back down into bliss when he filled you anew.

Sam grabbed your hips, slowing your pace when you began to lift again, shaking his head. “I can’t knot you like this,” he choked out, pulling you down to kiss you. “As good as it feels, you can’t… you can’t take me this way.”

The way he said it probably shouldn’t have been highly erotic but to you, a relatively inexperienced Omega, it sounded like the dirtiest thing you’d ever heard. Your hair fell over his face when you kissed him, biting gently at his bottom lip.

“How can I take you, Alpha?” you purred, his answering moan giving you a pleasurable little thrill of power.

He growled, pulling you off of his lap, ignoring your whimper when his cock withdrew, slick with your juices. Sam shoved you onto your belly, grabbing your hips to lift your ass in the air. “You can take me like this,” he grunted, lining up with your soaked cunt again. “This way,” his cockhead slipped inside you, a faint  _ ‘ooo’ _ muffled by the pillow under your face, “you can take me deep. Feel every inch of me inside you.”

You squeaked when he thrust forward, filling you completely, deeper than before. The stretch was a pleasurable burn, the point inside you where his tip was tight against your cervix almost like a spark ready to ignite.

“Sam -” The choked gasp of his name was cut off when he rolled his hips, pressing himself even deeper. You cried out, clutching the pillows, pushing back against him in an instinctive manner, belly curving into the bed underneath you. Even if you were inexperienced, your body knew what it wanted.

Running his hands over your ass, Sam looked down, eyes darkening at the sight of his cock buried to the hilt inside you, stretching your pussy around the swell of his already thickening knot. “Gonna knot you,” he promised, “make you mine.”

You nodded listlessly, gasping and panting into the pillows, rocking on your knees as your body clamored for more. Sam’s hands stopped on your hips, gripping them tightly, drawing back, his eyes locked on where your bodies joined. He pulled out slowly, inch by inch, letting you feel the curve of his cockhead catching on your entrance when he was almost free.

When he thrust back in, you screamed, an unexpected orgasm washing over you. Your cunt spasmed around him, hips meeting him stroke for stroke, making the slap of your skin crashing together even louder in the small bedroom.

Sam’s control ran out when you came again; his knot popped and with one hard thrust, it was inside you. Your mind whited out for a short second, a silent cry on your lips as you felt the first spurt of his cum, warm in your belly.

You weren’t sure how long it took him to finish, too busy riding the high of your climax. His arms shook as he lowered himself, resting against your back but still holding his weight off. Eventually, his hands slid underneath your belly, pulling you onto your side and into his warm hold.

“You okay?” he asked, his words a little slurred.

Nodding, you managed a smile, covering one of his hands with yours. “I’m okay.”

Sam grinned, kissing the back of your neck. “That was intense.”

“Yeah,” you hummed, closing your eyes. “I could sleep for about a week.” He laughed quietly, leaning into you, his protective embrace only assisting your journey into unconsciousness. “Sam?” you yawned, curling your toes a little.

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna talk, right?”

“Yeah.” His lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

“You didn’t mark me,” you pointed out.

“No,” Sam sighed, resting his head against yours. “I didn’t want to do it without your permission.” You smiled at that, wondering how many other Alphas were caring and gentle enough to want the permission of the Omega they were claiming.

Sighing happily, you patted his hand. “You have my permission. I wanna be yours.”

“You are,” he promised, holding you tightly, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “And when we’re home, I’ll make sure you never forget it.”


End file.
